


His little girl

by frogsandrosbifs



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, My first time writing Tywin I am not confident at all, Purple Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1470526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogsandrosbifs/pseuds/frogsandrosbifs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Purple wedding ; Tywin caring for his shocked, grieving daughter and carrying her to bed.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>His tones were strong, but there was a gentleness in his voice that nobody had heard in years. Probably nobody but his family.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	His little girl

_Madness_ – He had had to do his best to put order into this mess as the guards had seized Tyrion. Make sure the guests would leave, make sure the kingsguards would do their job, make the place safe --- if there was something as safe after the assassination of the King. He had stopped Tommen from running to his mother – and to his brother's dead body – instead making sure he would be escorted to his room by the best knights they had. And all this time, as he gave orders, he simply could not tune out his daughter's wailing. He heard her fighting the guards, telling them to get off her son – a lioness' roar. After the White Cloaks left with Joffrey's body to take it to the Sept, she curled up into a ball. Guards did try to offer to escort her to her room, but Tywin was not sure she even heard them, pushing them away when they would try to force her. He sent them to do other duties ; until he was done, he had no choice but to leave her there. Somehow, he did feel that she was safer with him around, even busy as he was.

"My son... My son... My son..." she repeated, her voice broken, sobs shaking her body. It reminded him of Joanna in her last moments, he realized before quickly chasing that thought away. The realm needed him, and most of all, his family needed him.

Cersei needed him.

After he gave his last orders, Tywin knelt next to her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Cersei."

She made a move as if to flinch away, but he felt her still a bit at his voice. At least, he would not have to fight with her.

"Cersei, you should go to bed."

His tones were strong, but there was a gentleness in his voice that nobody had heard in years. Probably nobody but his family.

If she had heard him, she showed no indication. _**She's shaking too much, I'm not sure she'll be able to get up.**_

He needed to do more if he wanted to get her attention, it seemed. She was so deep in her grief that the outside world was far away from her. He knew that ; he very well did. Tywin wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. How long since he had ever held her ? Last time, she had been a child.

"Cersei. It's your father. I'm here."

If at first, it seemed only to make her cry harder, she then seemed to give in, burying her face into his shoulder. "Father-- Father.."

"Yes."

"He's dead... He's dead.."

"I know," he said softly as he rubbed her back. She was clinging to him now. He rocked her a little, remembering her when she was a child ; when she would fall and keep her face as straight as possible because Queens didn't cry, but burst into tears as soon as he would pick her up. This was, however, much more than just a skinned knee. Losing a child, for a mother --– he knew the stories about Catelyn Stark, and his daughter was an even fiercer one. Fierce enough for him to be worried over what she would do to herself in her pain.

For once in his life, Tywin Lannister was not sure what to do.

"Come. You need to go to bed."

"I don't want to--"

"You will still go. Can you walk ?"

No answer.

He was pretty sure she would not stand on her legs anyway **–** _ **Seven Hells, she's shaking so much –**_ so he picked her up, surprised at how light she still felt even after so many years. She offered no resistance, huddling up against him.

"Good girl."

Cersei had never seemed more like his little girl again, hiding her face in his chest for protection. Her sobbing had stilled, now replaced by silent tears, shudders, and still the same words, whispered over and over again. "Father.. Father, he's dead.. My son is dead.."

It sounded so much like a cry for help, but he did not have the heart to tell her that there was nothing to do now. Quietly, he carried her through the Keep, sometimes replying to her calls with "I know, Cersei" because he had noticed that his voice tended to calm her a little. _Finally_ they got to her bedchambers, the guards he had sent already keeping the door.

He was trying to lie her down when he realised she would not let go of him. He had planned to get her to bed, to get her to sleep, however impossible it would seem ; he would have asked for some milk of the poppy, if the maesters weren't so busy. There were still things he had to sort out -- however reluctant he was to leave her on her own.

He sat with her on his lap, holding her close. She seemed to breathe better already, but now she was so still it was as if she was going limp. Exhaustion, he thought. Her strength was leaving her – a painful thing to see.

"Cersei, you need to sleep. Will you let me go ?" he asked softly, and this time she obtempered, although her moves seemed almost.. mecanic. He lied her down under the covers, as gently as he could ; she would need to change out of this gown, ideally, but right now he was pretty sure that it would be way too much. She was staring into space, silent tears rolling over her cheeks, still shuddering suddenly from time to time, but when he took her hand, he felt her squeezing it back. At least she was not totally _gone._

 _"_ I have to leave you," a stronger squeeze on his hand as her eyes actually met him ; _**Don't make this more difficult than it is, daughter --**_ "There are still many things to sort out to keep the realm in order."

"Don't—" her voice was so thin ; so worn out.

"Cersei. It's for your safety. And Tommen's."

As she initially meant to protest, she seemed to give in when he mentioned Tommen. He made a move to get up then, but she stopped him ;

"Father."

"Protect Tommen. _Please, protect him._ " she begged as tears poured down her face. She was beautiful, his daughter, even then, with tear-stained cheeks and her hair unmade. Joanna had been beautiful too, even as she had been dying, begging the same thing – _Protect him. Protect our child. Tywin, protect them._

"I will. I will, Cersei," and only then she let go of his hand.

He had never liked to see it or to think of it, but Cersei really was the image of her mother, he thought as he walked back to his duty feeling rather grim. 


End file.
